


Lesson In Humility

by Verai



Series: RDR2 tumblr Requests [3]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur POV, Dirty Talk, F/M, Humiliation, Low Honor Arthur Morgan, Name-Calling, Rich reader, Rough Sex, Verbal Humiliation, Virgin Reader, reader POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 04:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verai/pseuds/Verai
Summary: You were raised in a cold household, with parents who only wanted what was best for themselves. So you were taught how to be a lady with the coldest eyes and an ice heart. They taught you that no one was good enough, that you were better than everyone else, and you believed them. At least, until a blue-eyed bodyguard came to humble you.





	Lesson In Humility

**Author's Note:**

> Geez, I’m not sure what kick I’m on, but my stories are getting more filthy, sorry. Dva-xo, this one is all yours. Also trying a new format, where reader POV refers to you as “you”, while Arthur’s POV refers to you as “her”. I think, from his perspective, he’s not going to think in second person. Let me know what you think.

“Ain't there someone better for this job? Maybe someone better lookin’ and charmin’?”

 

Hosea sighed. For all his picking on Arthur for being an idiot, he knew he really wasn’t. He was the only one capable of handling this job with any tact. Charles was a close second, but he was a better hunter, so his skills would be better suited to feed the camp. Javier might have been able to do this, but Dutch needed him for scouting and tracking the O’Driscolls. And there was no way he was sending John or Bill or heaven forbid, Micah. Not for a job like this. 

 

“It'll only be for a week while the family finds a permanent house guard.”

 

Arthur sighed so hard that Hosea thought he was being melodramatic if he didn't know him any better. 

 

“Fine, fine. This better pay good.”

 

“It will. We already got paid partially up front, and you'll get paid the full amount at the end of the week when the contract is up. Now go meet her at this house,” he said, passing Arthur a map with directions scribbled in the corner. 

 

“She better not be some spoiled brat,” Arthur mumbled and he stomped off to pack some clothes. 

 

***

 

Looking up at the small house, you sighed. Your parents had sent you to St. Denis to learn how to be a proper lady of the house. Growing up under the exacting tutelage of your narcissistic parents, they had taught you etiquette and reminded you constantly of your place in life, and thus, the relative place of others, which was beneath you. 

 

The best women's college with the best home economics program was in this city, and while you could recite etiquette rules all day, you couldn't cook or mend a shirt for the life of you. You were feeling bitter; all the things that had interested you as a child but were told were beneath you, were now things your parents had decided were the proper topics to learn. 

 

_ You could have let me learn when I was 5, then I wouldn't have to start twenty years late.  _

 

Sighing again, you set your bitterness aside and followed the two servants who were bringing your luggage inside. A maid greeted you at the door and guided you around the house; it was small, just two stories: there was a parlour, eating area, servant’s quarters, and kitchen downstairs, and four bedrooms upstairs. One of those bedrooms was yours, another was for your parents when they stayed in town, and the last two were for guests.

 

Before you had left the main house, however, your parents told you that one of the guest bedrooms would be occupied by a personal bodyguard that they had hired for you. It was only for a week until they could find a permanent guard, they had said. You rolled your eyes; you didn’t need some local ruffian following you around. 

 

You already hated it here. It was humid and your clothing was sticking to your skin in an unrefined manner. The maid had left you alone in your new room while she continued cleaning and putting away your belongings. You turned to her and told her that you would like a bath. She paused for a moment. 

 

“Immediately,” you added. 

 

She nodded and went away to get it prepared for you. 

 

Walking over to the window, you looked out at the city and scowled. You were not looking forward to living here. 

 

***

 

Arthur looked up at the decently sized house and whistled. Whoever he was guarding really was rich, if this was their second home. He walked through the gates and knocked on the doors. An older woman came to the door. He quickly explained that he was the bodyguard hired by the head of the family and gave her the letter of introduction that Hosea had given to him. 

 

After introducing herself as Anna Miller, the head housekeeper, she led him through the house so he’d learn the location of all the rooms, and then finally the room where he’d be for the next week. She also gave him a schedule of the lady’s week; it looked like he’d be escorting her to and from school for five days, and then the last two days would be leisure, and he’d just have to take her wherever she wanted to go.

 

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t take anything she says personally,” she said before she left him to unpack.

 

“Huh?”

 

The housekeeper looked back at him over her shoulder. “She’s a cold one.”

 

***

 

After escorting you to the college this morning, the maid had said that your new guard would come to escort you home, and to wait at the gates for him. So you waited, and you held yourself up straight, even though everything in you wanted to just slouch and slink home. It had been a terrible day. You had followed each instruction to the letter, been an exemplary student. And yet when you tried to show another girl how to double stitch, she had turned you away, asking the other girls instead, even though you were clearly the better study.

 

_ Fools, tittering away. Some of us are here to better ourselves, _ you had thought disdainfully. 

 

When the instructor had tried to tell you that you were perhaps being a bit showy, you swallowed any response you might have made and nodded. Etiquette demanded that you treat all others as equals, even if you were superior to them. To maintain that facade all the time was stressful; all you wanted was a bit of praise for being so good. Instead you were punished for being better.  _ Served me right _ , you thought. You nearly broke etiquette.

 

When your coach came up and stopped before you, you watched with some trepidation as a tall, broad-shouldered man stepped out and looked straight at you. He called your name, and held out his hand.

 

Silently, you took it and let him help you into the coach. And you were silent the whole way back, since you had nothing to say.

 

***

 

_ Jesus, Mrs. Miller was right. She IS cold. Not a damn word the whole ride back, _ Arthur thought to himself as he helped her out of the coach. She kept walking away from him, her back straight, her face not showing a single emotion. He trailed behind her, not sure what he was supposed to do now.

 

“You’re dismissed for today,” she said when she got to the door. “I have no need for a guard now that I’m home.”

 

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed. “Listen, as much as I’d like to go the bar and get a drink, Mrs. Miller clearly stated that I’m supposed to guard you at all times.”

 

“Who said that?”

 

“Mrs. Miller? The head housekeeper?”

 

“Oh. Her. Fine,” she said dismissively, and walked into the house as if he wasn’t there.

 

Arthur rubbed his face; he felt a headache coming on.

 

_ This is goin’ to be a long week. _

 

***

 

You didn’t know the maid was the head housekeeper, but he didn’t need to know that. You hadn’t even bothered to remember her name. Such details didn’t register as important to you; what mattered now was maintaining your dignity. You had never dealt with a man who not only questioned you, but did so in an impolite tone. You had almost snapped at him, but you would not lose decorum over such a small thing. 

 

It was not lost on you that the man exuded the kind of masculinity that you had only heard about behind closed parlour doors where women spoke quietly of the books they had read, books with scandalous content with gunslingers rescuing ladies from bandits. Your breathing hitched at the thought, and you had to take a deep breath to calm your heart. This would not do at all.

 

This was going to be a very long week.

 

***

 

Three days passed, and Arthur grew more and more irritated with the lady who showed nothing but cold indifference to everyone around her, especially him. He was only mildly annoyed by how she treated him, but the way she barely spoke to Anna, and the way she treated the servants Thomas and Harry, pissed him off. He even talked to them about it, but they just shrugged it off, saying that the lady had always been like that, and she didn’t know any better. When he asked why wasn’t she taught better, they shrugged again. 

 

“She’s the daughter of our boss; it’s hard for us to say anything,” they had said. Arthur just shook his head. This wasn’t his place. Four more days, and he could collect his pay and go.

 

***

 

Each day that passed, Arthur would give you a piece of his mind. Somewhat politely at first, but with each passing day, he seemed to get more short with you. 

 

On the sixth day, Arthur finally snapped at you.

 

“Show some respect, Thomas was just doin’ his job,” he growled while walking with you upstairs after dinner. You had once again corrected Thomas on the proper way to lay out the silverware before the meal started, and you recall Arthur giving you a pointed look, but you hadn’t known why, and you didn’t care.

 

“How am I not? I’m correcting him.”

 

“He’s a human bein’, not an animal. A please and a thank you never hurt nobody.”

 

You opened your mouth to retort, but he had a point; etiquette demanded equal treatment. You shut your mouth and looked away.

 

“Oh, so you CAN feel ashamed.”

 

You glared daggers at him. “You should know who you’re dealing with.”

 

“What, a rich woman with no respect for common folk?”

 

“I respect those who deserve it.”

 

By now he had walked you to your room, and your hand was on the doorknob. You jumped when his hand slammed the door jamb next to your face.

 

“He deserves it more than you,” he snarled.

 

***

 

Arthur noted her eyes going wide and looking a bit scared as she turned to look at him. The darker part of his desires flared to life, seeing her like this. A crooked smile slowly grew on his face. It was his last night here. Might as well teach her a lesson, if she chose to let him in. 

 

***

 

Your heart beat wildly in your ribcage. The smile that he was giving you was like nothing any man had shown you before. You felt something tense lower in your body, and you knew, you  _ knew _ that if you let him into your room, you would throw all of your etiquette lessons out the window.

 

“Looks like you ain’t never been taken to task for your lack of respect.”

 

You scoffed, despite feeling a tremble in your hands. “Are  _ you _ going to?”

 

He stepped menacingly closer, staring down at you once he had you pinned against the door with his gimlet stare.

 

“Maybe I will. Because  _ you _ need to learn some manners.”

 

Your head spun. Maybe you deserved it. This past week, as you thought of all the times you had failed to maintain etiquette in class, letting out the occasional scoff or snide remark, you felt shame burn in your heart. And seeing the reaction of the women around you? The look in their eyes, knowing you weren’t perfect? The worst.

 

Something in you snapped. You turned the door handle.

 

“Fine.”

 

***

 

Arthur followed her into the dimly lit room and locked the door behind him. He didn’t want any interruptions. She stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at him, a defiant look on her, even though she had clearly invited him in. He put his hands on his belt and observed her. In a pink blouse and a cream colored skirt, she looked absolutely charming. He had an urge to take her hair out of that tight bun and let it cascade down her naked body. 

 

He stepped closer to her, closer than her precious etiquette dictated, and touched her hip. He loved the soft gasp she gave, and gripped her waist, pulling her close. Leaning in and grazing her earlobe with his lips, he felt his blood rush at the feel of her quivering against him. He was going to enjoy this one.

 

***

 

“Proper women don’t raise their voice,” he whispered into your ear. That was the only warning you got before he started sucking on your neck. You gasped and started breathing faster.

 

“Unbutton your blouse,” he ordered. You slowly undid each button as he watched you, a hunger growing in his eyes as more of your skin was exposed. You let the blouse slide off you. Your chemise was blocking his view, so he reached up and tore the fabric down, baring your breasts. You immediately brought your arms up, but he grabbed your wrists.

 

“Rule one: show me everythin’,” he said in a low voice. He let go of your wrists; you dropped your arms and let him look at you. Your face burned. 

 

Then he turned you around and pushed you towards the window. Pulling open the drapes a little bit, he forced you up against the glass, flattening your breasts against the cool material. Looking outside, you saw a few people past the garden gates. It suddenly hit you that if you could see them, then they could potentially see you. 

 

You struggled in his arms, but with one hand he gripped the back of your neck, and with the other, he started lifting up your skirt. 

 

“People can see me!” you whispered frantically. 

 

“Maybe. Maybe not. They might not notice.”

 

You were about to protest some more, but then you felt his touch on your thigh. He drew lazy circles on your rear, then delved his fingers down to your slit. Flicking your clit was a new sensation, and you took a sharp breath. You wriggled as you felt him toy with your body. His other hand that had been on the back of your neck holding you in place now started to stroke your shoulders, your waist, your hips. He pulled the remains of your chemise off you so you were bare from the waist up. 

 

“Then again, maybe they'll all see you, exposin’ yourself like this.”

 

Then he pushed a finger inside of you, and you pressed up against the glass, unfamiliar with this intimate invasion of your body. You quietly cried out at the strange feeling. When he added a second one, then a third, you were glad for the cool glass against your body as it heated up with every push into you. He watched you in the reflection of the glass, could see your face contort with everything he did to you. The arrogance in his smile gnawed at you, but there was nothing you could say; you had asked for this. 

 

Then he pulled his fingers out of you. You turned your head to see him unbuttoning his fly. Noticing that he had your attention, he slowly pulled his cock out, running your juices from his fingers up and down his hard shaft. 

 

Arthur stepped closer and nudged your opening. You squeaked, making him chuckle. Then he began to sink himself inside of you. 

 

“Ah, ah,” you called out, unable to keep your voice in. He covered your mouth. 

 

“Rule two: My little bitch doesn't speak unless spoken to,” he rasped in your ear as he sunk in to the hilt and stayed still, letting you adjust to his girth. You trembled under him, and he licked the column of your neck as he undid your hair. It fell in waves down your back and around your shoulders; he combed his hand through it gently, before grabbing a handful at the base of your head and pulling you back. 

 

He tightened the grip on your waist before he slid out of you and then slammed back in with such force that you were shoved into the glass. You braced your arms against the window frame to keep your balance as he started to move faster. 

 

“Fucked by a man you hardly know. That ain't so ladylike,” he said without missing a beat. “Shameful hussy like you deserves this.” 

 

You clenched around him. What on earth was the matter with you? You wanted him talking down to you,  _ degrading  _ you. The humiliation, specifically from him, made you feel on fire for once in your cold life.

 

His grip on you tightened, almost painfully, and brought you back to the present. “Ain't that right, sugar?” he growled. 

 

“Y-yes,” you stammered. 

 

He pulled tighter on your hair. “Yes what?” 

 

“Yes,  _ sir _ ,” you breathed. 

 

His low laugh sounded like a cross between amusement and dark pleasure. Letting go of your hair, he started fucking you harder, your body thumping softly against the glass. You tried not to moan, tried not to make any sounds, but when he reached down to finger your clit, your voice betrayed you, a soft whine escaping your lips.

 

Arthur’s fingers immediately left your folds, and you choked back a sob at their loss. You felt him pull away from you, and you slid down the glass slightly.

 

He undid your skirt and pulled it off, along with your drawers, leaving you naked except for your stockings. Then he slapped your ass hard, making you yelp in surprise.

 

“Don’t make me punish you more. Just stay quiet and take it.” He spanked your ass again, and you bit your lower lip to keep from crying out. Again and again, he made your rear end sting.

 

When he finally stopped, you weren’t sure how many spankings you had taken. All you knew was that when he shoved himself back inside you once more, the feeling of his clothes against your sensitive skin was too much, and you once again pushed up against the glass since you had nowhere else to go.

 

“Look out there, sugar. All those people you look down on. Can you imagine what they’d think of you now?”

 

You looked away from the window and closed your eyes.

 

Then you felt him wrap his arms around you and lift you up.

 

“Wrap your arm around me,” he ordered. You swung one arm around his neck and grabbed his shoulder. You leaned back on his chest as he adjusted his stance, and then switched his grip to spread your legs wide. In the reflection of the glass, you saw yourself in his arms, his hands gripping your thighs. You were spread open like a butterfly, and in between your legs, his cock was pulsing inside you.

 

Then he started lifting you up and down, and in the glass you saw a wanton woman, breasts heaving, your slit flowing with your juices as he made you his for the night. 

 

“Tell me what you are.”

 

“I'm your whore,” you gasped. 

 

“And what do you need?” 

 

“Your cock inside me,” you whimpered. 

 

And you became addicted. The power in his arms, his whole body, was a wonderous thing, as he fucked you by the window for anyone to see. The way he looked at you, like you were nothing, like you should feel so honored to be used by him, made you shiver. 

 

“Look at yourself. How can you be better than them, when you're actin’ like this?” He thrust into you one more time and kept himself fully inside you. 

 

“Touch yourself. Show me your face when you come with my dick inside you.”

 

You reached down with your free hand and rubbed yourself. It didn't take long, you were already so close that you came within a minute, gasping and staring at Arthur's eyes in the reflection. He looked satisfied, and a thrill of happiness ran through you. 

 

He walked over to the bed and dropped you onto the mattress, face first. You tried to lift your head, but he immediately shoved it back down. 

 

Entering you from behind, he railed you hard, not letting up for a moment, not giving you any mercy. He grabbed a corner of the bedsheet and stuffed it in your mouth to stifle your cries. You bit down and moaned as he kept pounding into you, leaning back occasionally to smack your ass. 

 

“Learn your lesson, sugar?” 

 

You nodded frantically. 

 

He took the sheet out of your mouth. “What was that?” 

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

“Good,” he said slowly, the word suddenly becoming so sexual in nature that you wanted him to say it again. Anything to make him praise you with that deep, honeyed voice. 

 

He suddenly pulled out of you and grabbed your hair, dragging you to your knees in front of him. He slowly stroked his cock in front of you and tipped your chin up. 

 

“Open up, sweet. I'm gonna use you real good tonight.”

 

You opened your mouth and he gently started to move in and out, letting you get used to his size. You got the idea quickly and moved on your own, so all he had to do was stand there and let you pleasure him. Using your tongue, you quickly learned what he liked, looking up at him and begging for praise with your eyes. You were completely in his thrall, and he knew it. 

 

“That's it, you're doing good,” he crooned, and you flushed with ecstacy. He petted your hair and caressed your cheek, and you leaned into his touch like a cat. 

 

You felt him twitch in your mouth. Suddenly Arthur grabbed your hair and pulled you off him, your mouth making a pop sound as he gripped himself and stroked once, twice, and came all over your unsuspecting face. 

 

“Clean me up,” he demanded, and you licked him until he was satisfied. He put himself away and looked down at you with a wry grin. 

 

“You look so slutty with my spend all over you, sugar.” 

 

“Thank you, sir,” you said without prompting. He gave you a true smile this time, his eyes filling with warmth. You wanted for nothing more. 

 

He kneeled down so he was eye level with you. “Now clean yourself up. And don't tell no one about this.” Then he leaned in closer and ran his thumb over your lips. “It's our secret, okay?” 

 

You nodded. He nodded back at you, stood up, and left you alone with your thoughts.

 

***

 

Arthur walked back to his room, feeling immensely gratified. No one knew about his depraved cravings, and he intended to keep it that way. And he always left his partners satisfied anyway, so they never spilled his secret. 

 

***

 

The next morning as you left your room, Arthur was there, standing next to your door. 

 

“I won't say anything,” you whispered. He nodded, and fell in step beside you. It was his last day; your new permanent guard was to show up this afternoon, so you decided to go take a walk in the park today. 

 

You let the maid, no, Mrs Miller, know that you were heading out to the park for the morning. You called her by her name, told her you were thankful for all her help this week, and she smiled at you. That was nice. 

 

Thomas drove the coach over to the park, and you thanked him for the drive, noting his pleasantly surprised look when you said it. It made you feel warm inside, and you were surprised by yourself. 

 

“So, feelin’ kinder today?” 

 

The two of you had walked around for five minutes before he finally spoke. 

 

“Yes. It's… different,” you said thoughtfully. “It's nice.”

 

Arthur chuckled. “Yep.”

 

You turned to stand in front of him. “I've learned a few things about myself. Thanks to you.”

 

He shrugged. “Not sure I did anything worth thanking me for.”

 

Smiling at him, you laughed. It was the first time he had heard you or seen you this happy. It had been a long time since you laughed like this. 

 

“I had a long think last night after you left. I need to be more respectful, and others will respond in kind.”

 

“You only now just figured this out?” 

 

“I think I was too wrapped up in my own head to see outside.” You stepped a bit closer to him, but not any closer than etiquette allowed. “Last night was… freeing, in a way.”

 

Arthur shrugged. 

 

“So thank you,” you said as you turned and started walking along the park path again. “I'll never forget it.”

 

You just heard him softly laughing behind you. 

 

***

 

Arthur packed up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. It was a crazy week. He walked down the steps and exited the front door, seeing her waiting for him. Beyond her, he saw a man exit the coach. Clearly the new guard. 

 

He walked past her, but not before whispering in her ear, “remember my lesson, sugar.” He grinned when he saw her blush and smile back at him, and he nodded at her before walking out the gate. He noted the way the new guard had been watching their whole exchange, and decided he didn't give a fuck. 

 

The new guard assessed him, judged him, and dismissed him in a second. Handing him a stack of bills, he said, “For your help this week.”

 

Arthur counted the cash and shoved the stack into his satchel. 

 

“Thanks,” he said, and walked towards the stable to get his horse and head back to camp. 

 

He'd have to thank Hosea for the job. After all, he got an extra reward that he'd never tell anyone about. 

**Author's Note:**

> Was it good? Needed work? Too repetitive? Please let me know. Trying new formats always has consequences... Thank you for reading!


End file.
